


some respite

by idlesong



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Character Study, Conflict Resolution, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 09:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14257890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlesong/pseuds/idlesong
Summary: Mark and Donghyuck are sure they'll be friends forever, but they haven't been friendsforever.





	some respite

Mark has been doing this for so long that it’s practically muscle memory. The choreography, every lyric, a little twitch of mind, syncopated movement—all was instinctual. Are people supposed to live like this? Be programmed in such a way to get used to this kind of exhaustion?

It never felt right, but any times of rest felt like a lull, so mundane that he felt useless. He remembers the first time he had a red bull, given to him in 4th grade by his older brother out of his own morbid curiosity. Mark had been ecstatic, feet running faster than his mind, blurting out the strings of words that were shoving each other off the diving board that was his tongue.

It was like all he did lately was that same kind of caffeine-run experience. When everything was so hyperactive, the height of his senses cranked up to 120% constantly, there was no room for rest in his accelerated life. Hardly a thought crossed his mind anymore that wasn’t about work, his skill set, his career that he wanted to be lifelong.

And he was 18 years old.

It was like he had spent decades of energy in the past few years. Was that wrong? Was that bad? There were places to go from here, for sure. So much left that he wanted to do. But he was tired. He wondered where he might be otherwise. Maybe, had he stayed in Canada, he’d be going to university there. He’d be in his first year now, in a different kind of dormitory, one that was built on a slant because of how the mountains in British Columbia didn’t create very even terrain. Every morning he might have found himself waking up to the view of the pale sun rising and shining amongst all the mist.

Maybe he would have studied creative writing. He had always liked that, even after having moved to Seoul and writing in Hangul that had yet to be polished. Stories and poetry in their more common mediums, rather than the ones found in his lyrics now. He loved his life now, and he thinks he would have loved it that way too.

There was also that anxiety though, the kind that coursed and throbbed through those intangible brain waves of his. How exhausting. How exhilarating. How crushing. How…inane.

He didn’t like to dwell too long on scenarios that wouldn’t come into fruition. Why think about where his life would go if it’s already gone, he wondered. That wasn’t a way to live, but he also didn’t know how one should live anyway. He wanted to know, he’d like to.

Living in the way he did made him eager to know everything. If he wasn’t given the opportunity to grow up so quickly than perhaps he wouldn’t have felt like this in the first place. The rest of his members, his brothers, his family members—surely they would understand. Surely.

 

Donghyuck tries not to worry too much about anything. It’s not that he’s incapable of being concerned, it’s just that he’d prefer not to if he could help it. Being objective is so much easier that way, when your judgement wasn’t clouded by apprehension. Fear was certainly a thing, but he found it more productive to compartmentalize it. He would rather be fearful of what could have happened because at least it passed, and nothing more could be done about it.

Self-satisfaction was the key, he thought, wanting to exceed your own expectations while keeping them realistic. He had quite the high expectations for himself, of course, but he was sure to keep to his pragmatism. There was the odd moment when it all wavered, when the course seemed strange and unfamiliar. It was a scary feeling, the disappearance of margins he had come to rely on.

Donghyuck focuses on himself, and himself only. There is enough room for the loved ones in his life, of course, but if he wanted to make them happy, he must make himself happy too. There was always another hurdle to overcome, another challenge to face. It was intimidating, but it was motivating too.

All those hours spent in practice rooms, taping auditions, squeezing himself into the smallest rooms and cupping his ears to monitor his own voice. A honey voice he had, honey voice and honey skin. Loving both was a greater challenge, and he wouldn’t lose. He never, ever lost. And if he ever did he wouldn’t falter, it wasn’t an impossibility. It was, however, unlikely, so long as he continued to work this way. He didn’t feel regret about things he took upon himself to do—he only did so if he got someone else involved.

There was a point to this all. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but he knew it would reveal itself. Perhaps he’d get so wrapped up in work that he would see his goal only after he had passed it. That was okay too. Satisfaction would come. He was sure of that.

In the meantime he would relish in the experiences he was having. It was his life, wasn’t it? There was so much more to experience. Greater emotions to feel. To miss any of it by being too lost in his thoughts would be setting himself up for failure. And he never failed. Ever. If and when that day came he’d be okay, but as far as he was concerned, it wouldn’t.

He wanted to experience it all. That was what he wanted. To be happy and pleased with all he had while reaching out for more. That was what he wanted.

 

Mark couldn’t understand that sometimes. How could Donghyuck be so easily content with what he had? Weren’t they meant for more than that? Weren’t they allowed to be unsatisfied with what they had so far? No, Donghyuck could scream. He didn’t want to always beat himself up, couldn’t he be happy with what he had done without being too focused on what more he had to do? They got into conversation that spiralled into argument, such a dual-lane in their perspectives on a future they’d have to share.

“Don’t take things so seriously,” Donghyuck would say, knowing that was exactly what Mark needed to hear to get riled up.

“Stop taking things so lightly,” Mark would say, knowing that Donghyuck hated being accused of such a thing.

And despite it they could laugh at how they could make each other go red in the face, only after all the words and partial-obscenities had been thrown. It may have gotten them into some of the worst fights of their friendship, but it learned, and they learned, how to let it all dissolve into memory.

It all dissolves, and begins to seep into the grooves of their minds, the parts that are always working and pulsating and manipulating what they learn. If there was a critical period of developing a tolerance to someone else’s nonsense, then it was one that extended into burgeoning adulthood. Then the tolerance became sympathetic perhaps, or at the very least, comprehensive.

The understanding seeped through until there was some resolution. They never went back to being roommates, but that was for the best. Mark’s tossing and turning was beginning to get on Donghyuck’s nerves, and Donghyuck snored far too loudly to ever let Mark get any sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> maybe this stemmed from my endless speculations about what markhyuck fought about in the summer of 2017. maybe.
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/ten7s)


End file.
